


I hate you but I don't hate you

by softgrungeprophet



Category: Venom (Comics)
Genre: Anger, Arguing, Awkward Conversations, Bad Days, Boyfriends, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Death Threats, Developing Relationship, Emotional Constipation, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Flirting, Human Disaster Eddie Brock, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurity, Introspection, Kinda, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Nervousness, Religious Guilt, Reminiscing, Self-Hatred, Sensuality, Sexual Confusion, Talking, Teasing, Touch-Starved, Touching, Watching Someone Sleep, Worry, feelings are hard, flash is a lil cocky and that's why we love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-02 15:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16789717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungeprophet/pseuds/softgrungeprophet
Summary: Sometimes you find yourself in the company of the person you'd least expect.





	1. kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash lets Eddie crash on his couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read _Toxin with a Vengeance_ the other day....

"Since when do you have legs?"

Flash frowned, turning as he said, " _Excuse_ me?"

Oh.

He should've recognized that particular tone of voice.

Eddie Brock, in the flesh, back in Philly, probably to exact vengeance once and for all.

With a sigh, Flash crossed his arms and faced the man fully. He looked like shit. Stubbly, bloodshot, clothes all wrinkled, but still looming wide as a wall. The two of them stared each other down, but when Toxin showed no signs of emerging, Flash let his head tilt and almost... _almost_ smirked.

"They're prosthetics, you jackass."

For some reason beyond Flash, Eddie seemed to... unclench at that. His shoulders dropped and though his expression didn't soften it changed to a different kind of stoniness. Interesting, but not something Flash really felt like examining at the moment.

"What are you doing here, Brock?"

Eddie shrugged, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. A clay-like red-brown. "I don't know." He sounded tired, hoarse as if he hadn't spoken to another person in days. "I just walked until I saw you."

Walked?! From New York to Philadelphia?!

Out loud, Flash said only, "Uhhh... are you staying nearby?"

"No. I haven't slept since... I dunno. I lost track. I don't—I don't have my wallet on me."

Great.

Okay.

This was—this was fine. This would be fine.

Flash rubbed his face. "Do you..." He was gonna regret this. "...need somewhere to stay?"

For a moment, as the crowd moved around them, Eddie was silent. A cold shifting stare, as he watched Flash, and Flash stared right back with all the stubbornness he could muster shoved into his posture. Finally, Eddie blinked, momentarily pressing his lips into a hard line before mumbling, "...yeah."

This was a mistake.

But Flash was a good man, now. He tried to be. And something about the way Eddie stared him down, how frayed he looked—like a half burnt candle wick losing itself to smoke—well, he'd always been kind of a pushover under all the machismo and anger. So he led Eddie Brock, the man who hated his guts, back to his apartment. And still, no appearance from Toxin other than—once, on the way past a bakery—the lazy loop of a red tendril around Eddie's wrist as he supported himself briefly against a crumbling brick wall.

Eddie slept for fifteen hours on the couch, only waking once to stumble to the bathroom half-conscious at 6 am, scaring the ever-loving shit out of Flash, who had forgotten he was there until being awoken by a slurred string of curses.

Unable to fall back asleep after that, Flash rolled his way to the kitchen to make breakfast. Dawn sunlight peeked through the window blinds in the living room, weak and silvery-gold as he banged around for a pan. Miraculously, Eddie stayed still as a rock on the couch cushions, not snoring or anything. Flash watched him curiously, as he waited for the pan to warm. And he just lay there, sprawled on his stomach, one leg bent up against the arm of the couch and the other hanging half off along with his arm, back rising and falling as he breathed with his face pressed into the cushions.

Didn't seem comfortable.

Flash ate, awkwardly self-conscious in the silence of a sleeping person.

He'd always hated the few times his father slept on the couch. Like he had to tread carefully, make no noise lest the beast awaken.

He shook his head.

It wasn't until around one that Eddie finally stirred—groaning and drawing his loose limbs up onto the cushions, and then continuing to lay awake with his face smashed into the upholstery. Flash watched him, hair wet from a lunchtime shower. By his count, it took a full ten minutes for Eddie to raise his head—from Flash purposefully making as much of a racket as possible preparing a sandwich.

"The...what..." Eddie glared toward the kitchen, and Flash shot him his cheekiest grin. He got a screwed up face in return as Eddie grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, rubbing his stubble with a sigh. "I must be in Hell."

Flash barked out a laugh as he took his sandwich into the living room. "Yeah? Well, welcome to Hell, I guess." He stretched up to grab his iPod, set to something low-key. "Feel free to use the shower. It comes in two temperatures—cold, and lukewarm."

Silent.

Flash frowned, and looked over at Eddie—Eddie, who stared at him almost in confusion, before making brief eye contact, and then breaking it with a soft puff of air, eyes roving across the room as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, well, better than what I got at home." He seemed... not tense, but nervous.

Huh.

Resigned to never quite understanding what went through Eddie Brock's head at any given second, Flash settled in to eat his sandwich—alone, now that Eddie had taken up his offer to use the shower. He could just feel the Venom symbiote stirring in him, not fully coherent but not a lifeless weight either. It seemed fond, scared, lonely—all twisting a knot of anxiety into Flash's gut. Not ideal, but... oh well.

He spoke to it and maybe to himself as well, as he ate, half-murmured words between bites.

"Don't let him fool you." Over to the window to fix something, plate on his lap. "He wants to get our guard down, and then he's gonna do what he always says he's gonna do, right?" Back over to the coffee table, to set the plate aside, gnawing on a crust. "But he doesn't seem like he's gonna." Over to the kitchen, to get a glass of water. "I've barely even seen Toxin."

A hum rippled through his bones, but he couldn't tell what emotion it was meant to convey.

When Eddie emerged from the bathroom, shirtless and tall, an entirely different emotion showed its face, and that was allll Flash Thompson. He leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a brief... admiration before opting for politeness and averting his eyes. Maybe he peeked a little bit, as he turned toward the TV. Normally he didn't go for the body-builder type—too familiar with the over-aggressive guys he'd fallen in with when he was younger—but... Eddie Brock wasn't exactly a 20 year old douchebag enrolled in the army to feel like a man.

No, he was stern and hard-edged, but not uptight. Comfortable in his own skin, and almost contemplative until he looked up at Flash.

Then he froze, and Toxin wrapped around him into a deep red t-shirt, fitted and smooth.

Flash grinned.

Did _he_ do that?

Eddie crossed his arms and stood in the middle of the living room as if he weren't sure what to do or say.

"Hey," Flash spun himself around with a nod toward the couch. "Make yourself at home."

Sure, he'd have to broach the subject at some point. _Are you, or are you not, going to attempt to murder me in my own apartment?_ But for the time being, he could be the hospitable young man. Maybe stretch a little further than he strictly needed to get that knot out of his back, before reaching for the remote. He delighted in the way Eddie's eyes briefly flicked over his body before a frown overtook his face and he looked away.

Right, right...

"So, for real, why are you here?" Flash tossed the remote at Eddie after changing the channel to some movie marathon, and went to join him on the couch.

Of course, Eddie caught it deftly. Grunted, "I came here cause I thought I wanted to kill you—"

Uh-oh, here we go. Flash settled into the cushions, with an eye on Eddie's hands in case he tried anything. Like strangling.

"—but now I'm not so sure."

Hm?

Flash tilted his head, only halfway listening but watching carefully.

"Thought it was just... resentment, and I needed to get it out of my system somehow." Eddie paused, eyebrows knit together heavy and dark. "But... it's still there and I don't... want to think about why I can't stop thinking about you."

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Flash sighed, letting his eyes close for a moment before reclaiming the remote to mute the television. He turned his full attention to Eddie. No eye contact—big guy had turned his gaze down, fingers dug into his knees like his hands might betray him somehow.

"Brock— _Eddie_." Flash kept his hands to himself as he spoke. Careful with his words. "It's... okay to be confused."

Eddie's frown deepened and Flash could've kicked himself. "God, I'm sorry. That came out condescending, didn't it?"

Heavy silence.

Then Eddie spoke—"I don't..." If his nails dug any harder he would've drawn his own blood. "I don't like myself, Flash."

Great.

"I don't like—Everything in my life up to this point has been... a series of failures, on my part, in every possible way and I'm just... adding one more to the pile, huh?" He smiled, but it was a tight, bad smile. A self-hating smile that flared his nostrils. "I feel like I'm betraying her."

Flash was absolutely not equipped to deal with this.

He reached out, barely. "Hey, listen, uh—" No words came to mind, and he took his hand back, wary of pushing any boundaries. "Um. It's. You're not bad."

Wait, no.

"Well, I mean, you _are_ bad—you tried to kill me, but I mean, this isn't bad. What you're talking about."

Eddie pushed his face into his hands for a brief moment, and let out a heavy sigh as he ran his fingers back through his crew-cut hair and finally rested them laced on the back of his neck. He didn't look at Flash, and his voice came soft when he spoke. "I spent the last... twenty-something years trying to convince myself I'm not..." His fingers tightened as he trailed off. "I really loved her, I thought. I don't know anymore."

"Yeah." Flash needed to do something with his hands before he lost his mind trying to keep still, so he clasped them in his lap and willed himself to just... relax. "Uh."

They lapsed into a thin silence.

After a moment, watching Eddie stare at the muted movement on the TV screen, Flash ventured for words again—"So you're... gay?"

Eddie tensed, in his shoulders and his jaw and his neck.

"I—sorry." Flash rubbed the back of his neck, and then—"Oh! I'm also—you know. Just so you know. I won't judge you, or anything."

The tiniest drop of the shoulder, and Eddie actually looked at him, finally.

Oh.

Ohhhhh, boy.

Change the subject, Thompson.

"So, uh, how are you okay with the slimy stuff but not the gay stuff?"

Smooth. Real smooth.

Eddie blinked, but he actually cracked out a quiet laugh, mostly from surprise. It looked much nicer on him than those angry glares and grimaces. His nose crinkled up as he thought, as he looked back toward the TV, and then he said, "The church doesn't really have a lot to say about symbiotes."

Fair point.

"No one ever told me I'd go to Hell if I bonded with a symbiotic space alien."

Also a fair point.

"You know when something huge happens, completely out of your control, so you just don't think about it? But then you break a glass and the rest of the day is ruined?" Eddie caught Flash's eye. "It's like that. There are rules and laws about humans. It's mundane, it's strict, I react to it. But—but being with a symbiote is so different from anything else on the planet. There's no precedence, there are no scriptures. They don't even have genders, or _ears_. I just take it in stride, I take it for what it is and I enjoy that—" He took a breath. "Maybe that makes me a freak but it's not nearly as terrifying as normal human life."

"...Wow." Flash picked at a dry spot on his lip as he thought. "That's... I mean... Yeah, I guess that makes some kinda sense."

Eddie snorted. "Guess so."

Another brief silence passed.

"But you still wanna kill me, right?"

At that, Eddie grinned wide, and a little dangerous—and maybe Flash should be more careful, but boy if he didn't like the way that looked, directed at him.

They'd inched closer to each other, at some point, in all the talking. Much closer, and suddenly they'd gotten into each other's airspace, and Flash didn't even spare a thought to Toxin or the shine in the backs of Eddie's pupils. He was transfixed. Until Eddie recoiled, and Flash noticed the slender black tendril rising from his own arm.

"I can't—" Eddie pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, shirt warping red with Toxin's agitation and his own. "This—"

Flash pulled himself off of the couch, back into his chair.

They avoided each other the rest of the day.

All through the evening and the night as well. Not a word spoken between them, though Flash occasionally caught Eddie murmuring to himself—or, probably to Toxin, now that he thought about it.

Guilt had lined itself along his stomach and the back of his skull.

A little bit him, a little bit the symbiote.

Frustration, jealousy, longing, sadness.

In the morning, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Listen, man." Flash ran his hand through his hair. "I get that you've got a lot of, fucking, feelings going on right now with Toxin and your delayed gay awakening or whatever the hell, but can we just..." He gestured toward Eddie. "Can we break this tension, or something?"

Eddie watched him like a cornered animal.

"I'm not gonna _hurt_ you."

If Flash didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie's eyes had an oily sheen over them. Never quite the same blue. And finally, Eddie closed his eyes and nodded, breathing out in resignation.

Good.

Flash settled in much the same position as last night, facing Eddie fully while the man just sat there all stiff and laser-focused. Taut like a tripwire. When Flash's hand brushed his arm he flinched like he'd been shocked, but then he moved—fast and harsh, and suddenly Flash was on his back, and Eddie loomed over him.

This was it.

Time to get murdered.

But... nope.

Instead, with just as much hesitation as had previously been reflex, Eddie kissed him. A very halting thing, testing, before sighing into it and settling across Flash with one hand on the side of his head and the other propping him up against the couch cushions. Flash wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders, only a little smug—okay, maybe a lot. But Eddie either didn't mind or didn't notice.

This time, no tendrils of ex... ex- _somethings_ sneaking out to say hello. Just two men, mostly. Technically not ever just human, even when they held their symbiotes from spilling out. Two men.

Flash pulled back first, as best he could pinned underneath the absolute brick shithouse of a man that was Eddie Brock. But he didn't want to push it, after such a rocky start, and he needed to catch his breath. " _Damn_ , Mr. Brock."

"I don’t wanna hear it." Eddie glowered down at him.

With a grin, Flash said, "You sure? I was gonna write a poem praising your lips."

Eddie wrinkled his nose, drawing away from Flash with a grumble.

"Oh, Eddie Brock, you take my breath away—"

Flash dissolved into laughter as Eddie stood, all stormy and _grumpy_.

"I swear to God." He jabbed a finger toward Flash. "I'm gonna kill you someday."

Flash folded his arms behind his head. "You know, you keep saying that, but somehow I'm still alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Note as of 1/2/19) Having read more of BOTH of their comics and having seen some stuff floating around the internet I actually have done a COMPLETE 180 on my opinion of their sexualities, like holy shit... Flash gives off some deeply, deeply closeted vibes imo (sexuality AND gender-wise), and I think Eddie was prooobably able to accept himself around Lethal Protector... So... his early-to-mid 20s.
> 
> As an aside, we know Flash is Peter's age (so probably like 27 during toxin with a vengeance? I don't actually know the timeline) but I also personally figure Eddie's like, 5 years older than them, so he'd be like, 32-ish here.
> 
> Oh ALSO the reason eddie's tense before Flash tells him he has prosthetic legs is because he is, basically, afraid to deal with the symbiote, and thinks that Flash is like, pulling an Agent Venom and has slime legs. But they're just his prosthetics, and that reassures Eddie a lot.  
> But most of the rest of the fic Flash is in his wheelchair cause, I mean, he said it himself in TwaV: he kinda hates the legs.
> 
> Anywhoooooooo, lemme know if I need to add a tag or something, and I hope you enjoyed :) 
> 
> Hm... Flash should probably be using a cane with his legs in the very beginning of this, now that I think of it.
> 
> if u wanna know what kind of music I think Flash listens to, I made a truly awful playlist: [click](https://open.spotify.com/user/1276132741/playlist/1AhVeiHskzGTiSraYjzG9I?si=LAdMixsuRQeSLSh14EJdjw)


	2. touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash first noticed when he gave Eddie a handful of M&Ms and Eddie froze before almost dropping them all over the floor.

Flash had begun to notice something, in the week Eddie had spent thus far in his apartment.

Well, several things.

1) He no longer worried about Eddie killing him in his sleep.

2) Despite sleeping on the couch (which was too small for his body) every night, Eddie looked much better than he had the first day over. One might even call him handsome.

3) Eddie did not broach the subject of sexuality and avoided discussing his impulsive kiss—Out of consideration, Flash didn't bring it up either. Or maybe he was just a coward who didn't want to try to talk about _feelings_ with a musclebound dude who weighed as much as a small bear.

4) Eddie simultaneously avoided and leaned into any and all non-threatening physical contact.

Flash first noticed the fourth thing when he gave Eddie a handful of M&Ms and Eddie froze before almost dropping them all over the floor.

So... maybe Flash started doing little inconspicuous things, just to see what would happen. (And maybe that was cruel of him, a little bit.)

And maybe he reached out to touch Eddie's elbow, one morning, asking him some inane question about Toxin's, well, _toxicity_ , and let his hand linger—Eddie seemed knocked into a daze by it, short-circuiting for a brief stretch of time until he finally got his mouth moving and said, "Yeah. Yeah I think all of our... _descendants_... have a venomous bite."

Flash smiled and nodded and took his hand back and watched as Eddie barely shifted after him. But then Eddie gathered himself and pulled back.

That evening over popcorn, Flash had gotten Eddie talking about the plot of some murder mystery novel he'd read once. The way he got so into it, it was cute, really. Such a big, angry-looking man, talking so intently and earnestly about the author's use of foreshadowing. _Adorable_. He caught himself grinning as he listened.

Right, right, he had a purpose, here.

"Yeah? That's really interesting." Don't oversell it, Thompson... He leaned across Eddie for the glass of water sitting on the side table beside the couch, placing a firm hand on Eddie's knee—extra intent to make sure it didn't come across as sexual or teasing, because he wasn't _mean_. Thing was, the second the palm of Flash's hand connected with denim, it was as if he'd hit an off switch. Eddie stuttered to a complete stop, stock-still, like a car out of gas.

Shit.

Flash leaned back as quick as he could without spilling his water, withdrawing his hand.

"Uh. Sorry."

But Eddie didn't look mad, or anything. Just kind of... stared down at his leg. After a moment, he ran his own hands to rest on his knees, sort of pensive and quiet. He shook his head. "It's fine."

Right.

Flash grinned as goofy as he could, holding his arms out wide—well, one of them. Didn't want to spill his water. "Dude, do you need a hug? 'Cause I got hugs and I'm not afraid to use them."

Eddie made a face, then, finally—vaguely peeved and a little red—he grumbled, "I _will_ break your arm."

Flash pouted. "Fine." He sipped some water, settled back against the couch cushions, and said, "So what were you saying about..." He frowned as he thought. Damn, he really needed to work on his listening skills. "Sorry, I forgot what you were talking about."

Almost immediately, Eddie picked up where he'd left off, all too eager to change the subject back to fictional murder.

Boy, maybe Flash needed to work on his tendency to attract weirdoes.

The symbiote twittered under his skin.

Was that... defensiveness?

You know what? Fuck it. Flash set his glass down on the coffee table with a _clunk_.

"Hey, Eddie." Flash looked at him, very serious this time. "I meant it, about the hug. Or just like, anything? If you need a high-five or something, I'm always down for that."

Eddie stared at his reflection in the black TV screen. A little annoyed? A little... tense. Finally, he turned to face Flash. But he acted all hard and growly and said, "What, are you gonna offer to hold my hand next?"

Well...

Flash shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

He reached out—carefully, of course, for fear of a lashing out from either Eddie or Toxin. But no lashing was forthcoming. Instead, when Flash grabbed his hand, Eddie stilled. All the way down to his breath, caught in his throat if Flash read him right. It wasn't even a romantic hand-holding, more like an arm-wrestling position, with a firm grip as Flash lifted their hands. He put his other hand over the back of Eddie's, too, and finally Eddie breathed out. Very slowly, very softly.

"Hey." Flash shifted a little closer. "Is this alright?"

Without a word, Eddie nodded.

"You're staring." Flash couldn't help a little bit of a smile.

It was true, though. He _was_ staring. The look in his eyes, too... Dark but not angry. Soft. Nervous. His fingers tightened with Flash's, even as he ducked his head. And then, in a rush, very warm, he pulled Flash into an embrace with his other arm tight across his back. Flash got his hands free and wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders with an indistinct mumble. Intended to say, "I got you," but didn't really get it articulated very well with his face buried in Eddie's neck.

So maybe he wanted to hug Eddie as bad as Eddie clearly needed it.

And he really did need it, didn't he? He clung to Flash so tight it almost hurt, even with the Venom symbiote running through his veins and keeping the pressure off.

Something tickled, and it took a minute for Flash to realize what—a few red tendrils wrapped around his arms where they looped around Eddie's neck, cool and tentative. Not threatening, not angry, not worked up. Just curiously touching the fine hairs on his arms and curling around his wrists. Flash watched, carefully, for any sign of danger, and none came. Not even when a string of black lifted from his own skin and reached out.

Red flesh tangled with black, almost like playing, and Flash could feel a weird mental pull in the back of his head. Curious, taken aback, apologetic, irritated, intrigued, and then... a wave of contentment drew a tingle up his spine and goosebumps down his arms as the two symbiotes began to... purr and put out ropes of themselves around Flash and Eddie, drawing them in tighter and closer if that were even possible.

"Wh..." Flash wasn't exactly complaining, but then Eddie got _real_ tense _real_ fast and suddenly the tendrils whipped back into their respective hosts and Eddie pushed Flash away and—he still didn't look _angry_.

Just overwhelmed, as he pushed himself back against the arm of the couch, far from Flash as he could get without leaving. He curled in on himself, drawing his legs up and pressing his forehead into his knees, hugging _himself_ this time.

Still quiet, even breathing a little too fast.

Flash frowned. "Hey..."

Eddie shook his head.

"Too much?"

He nodded.

"I... Sorry."

Another shake.

"Hey, Eddie...?"

A grunt, this time. Progress.

Flash sighed. "When was the last time someone... like... _touched_ you?" He held a hand up, as if Eddie were in a state to interrupt him anyway. "Outside of a fight, I mean."

A long bout of silence stretched out between them, but finally Eddie spoke, quiet and unusually small. "Dunno." He cleared his throat, hoarse as he always was. "Most people don't like me."

Unbidden, a thought bubbled up through Flash's brain, that slowly familiar trill of the symbiote in his head. Not fully worded but, giving off the impression that Eddie had not been touched with kindness since before Flash met him. Not even the last time he'd bonded with the symbiote. Flash smoothed down the front of his shirt as he processed that suspicion, then moved back into Eddie's personal space. Not too close, but close enough to just lay a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

Immediately, Eddie tensed, and then just as fast, relaxed.

So just ease him into it, then. One thing at a time.

Flash moved his hand to the back of Eddie's head, slowly and watching for any kind of discomfort. He ran his fingers through Eddie's hair and the reaction was instant—he just melted with a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging and arms dropping from around himself. He didn't lean his head back or anything, still had his knees up and his head down and his eyes closed. But it was a good improvement, in Flash's eyes.

"Betty used to pet my hair when we watched movies together." Flash mumbled, not fully paying attention to what he said. "Always made me fall asleep. Like a cat. Nothing better in the world." He continued to stroke his fingers through Eddie's hair. "I guess it works on big, grouchy bears too."

Eddie huffed, almost amused.

After some coaxing ("It's embarrassing." "No one else is _here_." "It's still embarrassing.") Flash got Eddie to lay down with his head on a cushion in Flash's lap. Much easier on Flash's arms, that way. He took a moment to turn the TV on, to a channel playing some goofy sci-fi special, and returned to his soothing hair-petting.

Eddie fell asleep within ten minutes.

"Out like a light..." Flash smiled, and kept it up. Eddie wasn't the only one who was a little lonely, a little touch-starved, and he liked the feeling of the particularly short, fuzzy hairs on the back of his neck. Anyway, he didn't want to stop and accidentally wake Eddie up... And pretty quickly, he found himself dozing, too, hands gradually stilling as he nodded off.

As he lost consciousness, he thought he felt a little symbiotic caress, but it was probably nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again with my Wall Of Notes!
> 
> Decided to add some more to this little mini-AU on a whim.  
> I like the idea that Eddie becomes particularly pliant when offered gentle physical touch or positive reinforcement and gets all soft and easy-to-influence. Like, someone is nice to him and praises him and he will do anything for them. I didn't get to the praise part in this unfortunately.
> 
> But also I think that he resists it sometimes. I haven't read the cancer/anti-venom arcs but it sounds like he went through... a lot of trauma on top of his already existing traumas and I don't think he's ready (in this AU) to fully acknowledge or talk about the symbiote...(having now read the cancer arc: ha....yeah) Plus the overlap of things like internalized homophobia... RIP.  
> It's a little tough cause this Eddie feels a little out of character but like... at the same time, of course he would be out of sorts?
> 
> On the topic of the Toxin and Venom symbiotes I think they're getting along so quickly (despite some hesitation) because of Eddie and Flash's feelings for each other influencing them. It's been so long since anyone's been nice to Eddie that he's pretty much been knocked flat on his ass (metaphorically) by Flash's... everything, and Flash likes him well enough, so the symbiotes are picking up on that really strongly, especially Toxin who's so much younger. It's entirely possible Toxin has fallen in love with Flash too lmao 
> 
> As an aside, I think Flash is a pretty uh--thoughtlessly feels like a negative word but like, physically affectionate in a way he doesn't always think about. Just like, clapping people on the back, hugging, clasping hands--a total bro who's been working hard at being comfortable with himself and his body, even if he is still sometimes insecure.  
> Obvs he's also a bit of a tease LOL
> 
> As always let me know if I should add any tags or whatever.


	3. hung the stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course he was dangerous.  
> But the better question was, did he pose a danger to Flash, to the symbiote?  
> Maybe not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of implied sexual content in this one, and ALSO: a small argument between Flash and Eddie. 
> 
> Relationships? Hard. Communication? Also hard.  
> They'll figure it out, though.

Eddie looked at Flash like he'd hung the fucking stars in the sky.

And that was a lot to take in. But at the same time, God, having that directed at him? He could bask in that all day. And all it took was a little intimacy for him to become completely undone at the seams. All his big strong machismo? Gone. Poof. Fool around together, and bam—there lay Eddie Brock recovering his senses in a soft daze, eyes barely in focus, completely vulnerable, staring with the most potent mix of bliss and desire and awe and maybe a little bit of sadness.

Like no one had ever touched him like that—and Flash realized, oh, right. No one _had_. Not in literal _years_. And suddenly he felt a little guilty because as much as he liked the way Eddie melted at his every kiss and touch, he couldn't bring himself to like the reason behind it. So starved for affection that any kindness shut him down into a wordless, desperate-to-please puddle.

And he was _so_ quiet. Not in a holding-it-back way, either. Not ashamed. Just so fucking wrapped up in it all, so strung out on physical contact that the only noise he made was to breathe and sigh and gasp and very, very rarely let out the tiniest... noise. Flash couldn't even place it. A back of the throat kind of half vocalized thing. Supremely hot.

Especially when Flash praised him, and he got all needy and feverish.

But again, he couldn't be sure that wasn't just social deprivation working its nasty fingers into Eddie's psyche.

Flash stared up at the ceiling, while Eddie slept beside him. He had to admit, for a man who'd been divorced for like... a decade (okay, maybe not quite that long, but close), and who didn't seem to have any other meaningful relationships—romantic, platonic, or otherwise—Eddie was... not bad in bed. Good with his hands, good with his everything. Maybe because he put so much effort into honing his physique, working his body into a perfect machine... maybe for some other reason.

Sluggish in his brain, the symbiote pushed some vague recollections of recollections forward.

 _Oh_.

Well. He had mentioned "enjoying" being with symbiotes.

Apparently that included physical intimacy. And those secondhand almost-memories alleviated some of his misgivings. Not about the touch-starvation itself, but more about the reaction. About involuntary responses to positive reinforcement, about grasping for anything and everything that felt good. Physically, emotionally.

[ **Realized we need touch too... a few years ago.** ] As if to punctuate this, the symbiote curled out from Flash's chest in a formless twist and twined up his jaw and cheek before sinking back into his skin.

It fell silent, suddenly so drained, so tired.

"Yeah?" Flash stifled a half-formed laugh, stretching his arms out to touch the wall. "You too, huh?"

Affirmation hummed in his skull. It tingled a little. That was touch, of a certain kind, and maybe that was precisely the kind of touch a symbiote needed even as a human host needed something different. Interior versus exterior.

He rolled onto his side.

Eddie lay facing away from him, back a broad silhouette in the darkness. Flash reached out, carefully, and laid his palm flat against Eddie's shoulder blade. No visible shift, only the slightest hitch in his breathing before it evened out. The symbiote extended from Flash's fingertips, and through their connection he could feel a pained longing. _Miss you_ , _love you_ , and conflict—it had done so much to protect the both of them, Flash and Eddie. They had each been through so many ups and downs, misplaced hatred and confused desires. They had all hurt so many people.

All four of them.

They felt Toxin bubble to the surface, more than saw it. It was particularly strange to interact with a not-clone offspring-of-offspring, however brief. And it _was_ brief. A playful jab, a bristle, an apologetic _mrrrp_ as Toxin sank away again—God, if he had known the way symbiotes vocalized like this he never would have let himself think sedation was the way to go. Of _course_ they were alive, sentient. How could he have been so ignorant?

And now that his... other, to echo Eddie's own terminology—now that his other had regained half a semblance of consciousness, he had begun to understand little things like that. The way they felt sound, the physical aspect of purring and grumbling and growling and how it was used instinctively for social bonding—how even an outcast like their other felt an urge to connect with others even though it didn't know _how_. (But it had begun to learn.)

How symbiotes navigated using the reflections of radio waves echoing through the atmosphere, feeling it deep in their core—so sensitive to frequency and volume. Their acute attunement to temperature, to smell. All of this... _stuff_ he'd only ever momentarily encountered, the few times he'd "lost control" and been overtaken.

He had so much to learn.

Both of the symbiotes retreated, as Eddie stirred with a groan.

Flash pressed his hand more firmly on his back. "Shhhh..." He scooched closer, to kiss the back of his neck.

Eddie relaxed, and fell back into the steady inhale-exhale tempo of sleep. Flash wondered how much of that was his natural muscle memory and how much was the red-and-blue symbiote in his lungs. Flash himself occasionally forgot to breathe at all, perfectly fine through osmosis, and only remembered when he needed to say something and lacked the air in his lungs for speech and so—like right now? He wasn't breathing.

He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

He wondered how the next day would turn out.

Sure, Eddie had walked (walked!!) to Philadelphia _specifically_ to seek out Flash, because he'd been so transfixed, so... obsessed, honestly. And he'd been staying in Flash's apartment, mostly on the couch, for the better part of nearly three weeks now... But a lifetime of ignoring and suppressing a crucial part of yourself—that couldn't just wash itself away in seventeen days.

When you hate yourself, you hate yourself, and while affection can go a long way toward helping that, Flash knew it generally wasn't enough on its own, and sometimes it worked against itself. Turned into further self-loathing, disappointment, disgust. Resentment.

He sighed.

Didn't even take into account the whole... "if you lose control, I'll be there" thing. On the sidelines, waiting to waste him. How fast could a person drop their hatred of another? So quickly? Had he spent those sleepless nights on his feet thinking through it all? Not willing to admit it? Did he still want Flash's head on a spike? Was he still dangerous?

Of _course_ he was dangerous.

But the better question was, did he pose a danger to Flash, to the symbiote?

Maybe not anymore.

Even when Toxin showed itself, Flash never got that jangling pang of **Danger**! Occasionally, a little itch. That was it. Usually followed by an irritated nibble and the temporary sting of poison dispersed away, neutralized by antibodies he'd built up during his partnership as Agent Venom.

Flash still couldn't help but dread the prospect of the first (hopefully not last?) morning after. Would Eddie be mad at Flash? Himself? Would he withdraw? Would he leave? Would he be Toxin; would they lose themselves to confusion and anxiety?

The symbiote dripped soothing nonsense down Flash's spine. But he could tell it was nervous, too. Even though it had not once emerged, not until Eddie was asleep. But it still feared that somehow, he would know it missed him, and he would freak out or something.

"Give him some credit, huh?" Directed at himself as much as the symbiote. "He can handle it."

He could not handle it.

Not that he had a complete breakdown or anything but Eddie spent much of the morning irritable, touch-averse, and jumpy.

It was the weekend, so Flash didn't need to go to work, but Eddie left to "clear his head" before lunch, and by the time night fell and he still hadn't come back, Flash had begun to worry, and scold himself, and scold Eddie in his head—what if he'd decided to ditch without even talking about it? What if he _hurt_ someone? Flash felt a pang of guilt. Guilt for his lack of trust, guilt that he might have pushed Eddie too far, guilt that he immediately assumed the worst.

All day, he glared at anything he laid his eyes on, including his dinner, until _finally_ —at midnight—the door opened.

Eddie looked miserable.

"Where _were_ you?!"

Eddie glowered at Flash, as he shut the door behind him. "I'm an adult, Thompson." He shrugged off his leather jacket out of some force of habit even as it dissolved into his skin. "You're not my _wife_. I don't owe you an explanation."

Flash crossed his arms. "As long as you're eating all my food, you do." He nodded toward the door. "Unless you wanna go back to New York."

Eddie's jaw clenched. Anger, shoving it back down, with his nose snarled up and his eyes shut as he... presumably spoke with Toxin or maybe just his internal thoughts. Little red and ink-blue curls poked from his arms, agitated but inwardly-directed, not pinging Venom's sense of self-preservation. Though maybe they should have, knowing Eddie's history.

Flash had his own little mental back and forth, as he watched Eddie argue with himself. Mostly the symbiote whining wordlessly at him, and he himself trying to keep his own irritability in check.

The silence tensed between them—and then Eddie sighed and pressed his hands to his face, shoulders drooping. He moved from his place by the door, across the room in a few strides and onto the couch with a grunt.

"I got lost."

_What?_

Flash stared at him. "Lost— You got lost." He couldn't help the exasperated laugh that worked its way out of him. It was just so much to take in, after he'd worked himself up all fucking day.

A pained grimace, from Eddie. "I was so furious with myself I just walked and walked for _hours_ without paying attention and when Toxin snapped me out of it I had no idea where we were." He let his head fall back against the couch and inspected the ceiling. "It didn't take long for us to reorient ourselves but... I made it pretty far on my own two feet. And at that point..." He paused. "I didn't want to face you."

Right. Okay.

"So you...?"

"I sat in a coffee shop for six hours."

 _Flash Thompson, you really know how to pick 'em_.

"Great." Flash gathered himself up with a deep breath. 1, 2, 3, 4. Back out. 5, 6, 7, 8. He rolled over to the couch and hauled himself onto it. On the far end from Eddie, a foot of space between them. Time to admit emotional sensitivity. "...We were worried." He paused. "About you." He couldn't make himself look at Eddie, as he fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. But he could feel his eyes on them. And it _was_... them. The symbiote had wrapped a tendril around Flash's wrist and hand.

It took a while for Eddie to respond, but when he did, his voice was quiet, and he just said, "Sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A visual aid for your viewing pleasure:  
>   
> Yes I drew this with a trackpad in MSPaint.
> 
> Sidenote: IDK if Flash actually knows anything about Eddie's past, but I figure since Eddie did mention Anne in the very first part, and it's been three weeks, they've proooooobably talked about it by now. Even if talking about it only means "Yeah I had a wife when I was younger but we got divorced and also she died so I've got some complicated feelings and I don't think I want to talk about them. What's for dinner."


	4. Timeskip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash never would have pegged Eddie Brock for a man afraid of the L-word, but he wasn't much better himself.

**6 months later** :

"Coach!" Andi flagged Flash down from her usual spot in the bleachers. "Your boyfriend called while you were peeing!"

Flash glared at her—sure, he could be comfortable with himself now (mostly), but he really didn't need people talking, on the off-chance it got to someone's parents or the higher-ups or, God forbid, both. He grabbed his phone from the bottom bleacher. "Do you _want_ me to get fired?"

"Sorry." She made a face.

He sighed. Shook his head. "No—I didn't mean to snap at you." He looked around the gym—it was the end of the day, after classes had ended, and mostly the only people around were a couple of kids meeting for a club. Social outcasts, the kind of people he'd been cruel to in high school but who he tried his hardest to protect these days. "He's not my boyfriend, anyway."

She raised her eyebrows.

Oh, he knew that face. That wicked grin.

"Coach." She planted her elbows on her knees, leaning forward. "He's been living with you long enough for the weather to change, _twice_. He takes out the garbage. You bought a _landline_ for him. He's your boyfriend."

He couldn't exactly deny her point.

"Yeah, well... whatever." He put in the voicemail code and waited for that robotic voice—"You have: 1 new message." Beeeeep. And then it skipped to a slightly fuzzy silence, and Eddie's voice, gruff as usual. "Hey, babe, it's me—" Of course, the ever-so-clarifying _Me_. The symbiote trilled in amusement in the back of his mind.

"I know you're busy right now but I just thought—I don't know." Flash frowned as the message continued. "I was at work and now I'm home, and I'm not... doing great so I thought I'd call you but you didn't answer and I know you're probably teaching kids how to toss a football or something but—Just call me back if you can, please, I really need to talk to you." Click.

Flash swore under his breath, and for a second Andi almost butted in with, presumably, a comment about how he really oughta watch his language but he could spot the split second she realized something was wrong, and her mouth snapped shut.

As he hit speed dial for the home phone, she asked, "Did something happen?"

He shook his head, both because he wasn't sure and because he needed her to be quiet—Eddie picked up almost immediately with a terse "Hello?"

God, he hadn't even checked the caller ID before answering, had he?

"Eddie, is everything okay?"

Eddie let out an audible breath on the end of the line, and said, "No. I mean, nothing happened. Well, it did—I don't know. I'm not okay."

Flash and the symbiote both exuded concern through each other, coiling in Flash's chest, under his skin, as he softened his voice and asked, real quiet, "Hey, tell me what's wrong." He could feel Andi's eyes on him, watching, but at this point... he knew she was almost as worried as him. So he couldn't bring himself to be particularly annoyed at her _extremely obvious_ eavesdropping, when he spotted a tiny tendril slinking down the bleachers toward him.

"I woke up in a bad mood. I thought I could handle it but I snapped at one of my coworkers, and then my boss wanted to talk to me and—" He paused, gathered himself. Flash could hear his ragged breathing clearly. "I thought I was doing good but I've been... 'dismissed.'"

Well, at least he wasn't hurt. Physically, at least. Flash switched the phone to his other ear, relaxing just the slightest bit. "Oh." He glanced up at Andi, who seemed both sympathetic and amused. He glared at her and mouthed " _You're mean._ " before addressing Eddie again. "Did they say why? Did they give you your two weeks?"

That actually got a bitter laugh from him. "Not required to do either on contract but word travels fast. Was _not_ because I got snippy. Belated background check. It got lost, they forgot about it, then someone found it, they realized I'm an ex-convict and... that's that for Eddie Brock."

Flash leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Shit, I'm sorry." But he could tell just talking it out had livened Eddie up some, got him out of his head enough to keep him from completely falling apart. "I've got five more minutes left but, if you wanna meet me halfway—I'll meet you at that café you like, okay?"

"Okay." Eddie paused. "I also broke my hand."

" _What?!_ " Flash realized he'd raised his voice, and calmed himself. "What did you do, Eddie?"

Quick to reassure him—"It was just a—a concrete pillar in the parking garage. You know, the big square ones. I punched one."

"Fuck, Eddie. Are you okay?" The symbiote wanted badly to come out, but it knew it couldn't, not with students around (few as they were in that moment), so it settled for spreading itself out to the tips of his fingers.

"I'm okay." Eddie seemed much calmer. "Toxin dealt with it, but it still hurts a little."

"Okay, well... I'll meet you at the café and then we can go home together, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

"Wait—" Eddie caught himself. He sounded almost nervous. "I... we..."

Flash tilted his head. "Spit it out." He smiled, even if Eddie couldn’t see it.

"No, never mind. It's not important. I'll see you soon."

And then he just hung up. Flash put his phone away with a sigh. "Uuuuuuuugh." He rubbed his face. "I know he wants to say it."

Andi laughed. She had drawn back her piece of Mania, and now picked her way down the steps to sit beside Flash. "Maybe if you tell him first, he'll work up some courage." She leaned on her hands, with an over-acted dreamy sigh. "He's in _love_ with you. " There was her impish grin again. "And you say he's not your boyfriend."

"Fine, you're right." Flash crossed his arms. "He's my boyfriend. And I have to go now, so I'll see you on Monday, _Andrea_."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

When Flash made it to the coffee shop, he found said boyfriend waiting diligently with a steaming mug of hot chocolate for himself (and probably Toxin as well), and—set carefully on a napkin to protect the old wooden table—an iced mocha for Flash and his passenger. With whipped cream and everything.

The symbiote vibrated excitedly in his bones, and he had to hold back a grin as he joined Eddie. Space had already been made for his wheelchair, probably by Eddie himself, and the mocha had only barely begun to melt at the very edges. Flash tugged at Eddie's collar so he could give him a kiss on the cheek and said, "Hey, big guy."

"Hey." Eddie lingered in his space for a moment before drawing back. He dipped a finger into his cocoa to test the temperature, winced slightly, and stuck it in his mouth. "Sorry about..." He raised his eyebrows. "That."

Flash, preoccupied by his mocha, shook his head. He had taken much more than a reasonable sip—a huge gulp, you might call it—and coughed slightly as cold infused the back of his skull and mouth, grimacing. "It's fine, it's fine. I'm just glad you weren't like, dying or something."

"Wouldn't have been the first time."

Eddie actually smirked at him, though he looked exhausted and he kept tapping his finger on the table. He kept his eyes on Flash, gentler than one might expect from a man of his stature and... perceived angriness. He reached out and took Flash's hand—surprisingly more proactive than usual. Not that Flash was complaining. He liked when Eddie took the initiative about as much as he liked when he _didn't_. Which was to say... a lot.

Luckily the café was dimly lit, because a red tendril and a black tendril peeked out from their respective hosts' hands to twine in between their fingers and around their wrists and knuckles (Eddie's, still a little bruised). Flash smiled. So much better than all the bickering. Well... they still bickered sometimes, but, hey. Who didn't?

He sipped his mocha (at a much more reasonable, less brain-freezing pace) while they held hands.

His thoughts drifted to what Andi had said earlier. How if he said... the thing that neither of them had said yet... If he said that first, maybe Eddie would say it too. Eddie had come close a couple of times, but he always managed to twist out of it at the last second—"Toxin likes the way you smell today," or "I lo...st... lost my belt, can you help me find it?" ("It's on the dresser, Eddie.")

Flash never would have pegged Eddie Brock for a man afraid of the L-word, but he wasn't much better himself, was he? And, in Eddie's defense, he _did_ bust out the pet names pretty much constantly now. Love, this; darling, that. Meanwhile Flash, ever the absolute unromantic, always ended up saying something embarrassing like, "Hey, bud, can you hand me the remote?"

 _Bud_.

The symbiote chided him, and he ducked his head. _I know, I know_. He just needed the right moment. 

"Hey, Eddie—"

Eddie interrupted him with, "I think I like you."

Flash shot him a lopsided grin. "You _think_? Dude, we're holding hands."

As if he had forgotten, Eddie glanced down. "Yes." He squeezed Flash's hand, and their symbiotes tightened around their interlocked fingers. "I'm aware."

"Are you, though? Are you really?"

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Hey." Flash covered their joined hands with his free hand, leaning in a little. "I like you too."

He could feel the symbiote laughing in his head, but... it was progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie _was_ working on contract at a local paper... rip  
> He's gotten closer to his smug self in the past six months, though obviously he still has his off-days, aka, apparently the only days I include.... sorry Eddie LOL
> 
> This ended up SLIGHTLY sappier than intended but hey. They're doing okay.   
> Thanks to everyone who read it! I appreciate you guys.


	5. Merry Christmas <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas Eve spent (mostly) together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on adding anymore to this but I wanted to write something cute....  
> MERRY CHRISTMAS! I hope you have a good day; and if you didn't, I hope that tomorrow will be better.
> 
> Eddie POV
> 
> Contents:  
> Lots of kissing and touching.  
> Toxin talks in this one  
> Complicated Christmas feelings and remembering family and stuff

**Christmas Eve** :

Toxin kept asking Eddie questions.

[ **What's the meaning of Christmas? Everyone seems to disagree. Did you get us a present? Did you get Flash a present? He has soft hands. Did you get grandpa a present? Are we going to make cookies for Santa? Santa's real, you know—** ]

"Please shut up."

He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but old habits die hard.

Flash looked at him, eyebrows shooting up. "I'm gonna assume that wasn't meant for me." He leaned over to rest his head on Eddie's shoulder with a grin. "Unless you wanna sleep on the floor tonight."

[ **Nooooooooooooooo** —]

"No, no." Eddie let Flash snake an arm around his waist and turned his head to kiss Flash's hair. He shifted so he could put his arm around Flash's shoulders and muttered, "Don't banish us to the floor..." He moved to kiss Flash, hand drifting up to the back of his head, to run his fingers through his shaggy hair. Flash smiled into it and between himself and Toxin, Eddie found himself hit by that all-too-familiar kick of self-amplified affection that always enveloped them at Flash's touch. Even when Toxin was in a bad mood—

Overwhelming, but in a good way. If such a thing were possible.

Toxin buzzed happily in his head, in response to his own happiness, and that pushed its way down to his larynx, a little hum in the back of his throat.

Flash laughed, quietly.

His cellphone vibrated on the coffee table, a jagged **_VVVVT_** that startled them both—he sighed and leaned away from Eddie. "Sorry." He settled back against the cushions as he answered. "Hey, mom."

A black tendril lifted from his shoulder and draped across Eddie's shoulder, reaching up to poke him in the cheek as Flash spoke to his mother on the phone. Toxin peeked out from his face with a toothy grin. They caught the symbiote in one hand, all their slender tentacles reaching from their back and shoulders to twist together with it, humming and purring. Eddie let Toxin take over for a second, relaxing into the sensation of merging and blending until...

"Hey, guys." Flash had his phone held out and away, with Toxin and Venom bristling at each other, half-playful but half-serious. "Could you maybe chill?"

Toxin growled at him but withdrew. As they did, Eddie pushed him down against the cushions. Flash scrunched his face up, going all pink—he put the phone back to his face long enough to say, "Hey, mom, I gotta go I'm, uh—burning lunch—" Eddie ran a hand up his side, under his shirt. "—but I'll see you in a few hours okay love you bye" He practically dropped his phone to the floor—straddled by Eddie, pinned down and neck bared—

Eddie kissed Flash's throat. He liked the soft noises he made as he tilted his head back.

Flash himself seemed torn between laughing, scolding, and gasping. "You _suck_." He reached up, though, running his hands up the short hair on the back of Eddie's neck. Encouraging, even as he breathed out a noncommittal "I gotta get ready soon..."

"You still have two hours."

***

Late afternoon, and Eddie sat with Toxin wrapped lazily around his neck, a tasseled red and blue scarf that would have looked right at home on a Macy's mannequin. He had hijacked Flash's Spotify account to listen to Frank Sinatra Christmas music over the TV, singing along as he wrote.

[ **Do you hate Christmas?** ]

Eddie set his notebook aside and folded his hands beneath his chin, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

How to explain... He didn't hate Christmas itself, exactly.

His father had never done anything meaningful. He bought them expensive-yet-generic presents and promptly left them in the hands of the busy housekeeper. She gave them good food, and played Christmas music over the radio, but she had her own family to go home to, and every year seemed a little lonelier.

Until college.

The first Christmas he spent with Anne's family, he got so overwhelmed he locked himself in the bathroom. Not just loud with laughter and conversation, but full of warmth and the kind of family interaction he'd never experienced in his _life_.

He stayed with Anne's family every year after that, and his father either never noticed or never cared. But Eddie and Mary sent each other cards and trinkets. Chocolates, interesting rocks, that kind of thing.

"I don't hate Christmas."

[ **But it makes your brain weird.** ]

"It's not..." He rubbed his face with a grumble. "It's complicated." Complicated like every aspect of his life.

Those good experiences with Anne and her family had ended pretty abruptly, when his life collapsed out from under his feet.

But he still didn't _hate_ Christmas.

Even though looking at the tree kind of made his chest hurt.

[ **You never said whether we're giving anything to Flash.** ]

"We—" He frowned. " _I_ don't have money." Not since he got fired.

[ **So make something. Christmas is _tomorrow_ , you don't exactly have a lot of time left.**]

"I'm not great with my hands, alright?" Eddie stood, walking over to the window. He leaned his head against the cold glass, watching his breath fog up across it. He closed his eyes. "What am I supposed to make him? A paper snowflake? Really thoughtful gift, right there."

[ **You're a writer. _Write_ him something.**]

That seemed... pretentious and self-centered. At least, as a gift for Flash. But Eddie was nothing if not both of those things. He considered it, swaying absently to the music. Maybe a card... That seemed like a cop-out, though. A letter? Would Flash be put off by something like that? A poem? Absolutely not. Not because Eddie couldn't do it, from a technical standpoint. But mentally? He didn't have it in him. He was a journalist, not a poet or an epistolist, and anything he could write to Flash would be too embarrassing. 

A knock at the door jolted him out of his thoughts.

He made sure Toxin had settled, no stray limbs waving from the scarf, and answered the door to a girl he recognized as Flash's protégé. Andi. They'd met once, maybe twice.

"Hey! Eddie, right?" She tilted her head to the side, peeking past him into the apartment. "Is Coach Thompson home?"

"No, sorry." Possibly too brusque.

"Oh, damn—" Andi gave him an exaggerated frown. "I wanted to give this to him before I left." She held up a small package, wrapped in what seemed to be Halloween-themed wrapping paper, with a silver bow stuck to the corner.

Eddie scratched the back of his head. "He won't be back until later tonight, but I can give it to him when he gets home, if you'd like."

"That would be great!" She pushed the gift into his hands with a smile.

He nodded.

" _Bye_." Her expression made it seem like she _might_ have been laughing at him, internally. Maybe. Toxin _definitely_ was.

"Merry Christmas, Andi."

She did laugh, then, as she turned away. "So you _do_ know my name!" Then she was gone, down the hall, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Eddie looked down at the little package with some curiosity, as he closed the door behind him. Toxin snuck out a tendril to poke at the bow, and he shooed it off. "Hands off. You don't want to ruin it, do you?" He knelt by the tree, small but green, and set the gift in its shadow with more care than it really warranted. It just seemed like the right approach to take.

There were a couple other presents under the tree, which Flash had wrapped earlier with strict instructions not to look.

And one more, a little gift bag on the bar counter...

For Andi.

Which Flash had specifically told him to give to her if she stopped by while he was gone.

Great job, Eddie.

***

Eddie almost didn't hear the door unlock from the kitchen, but Toxin perked up, lifting a few tentacles from his back at the soft click—

"Hey!"

Focused on making dinner, Eddie waited for Flash to come to him—listened to the sound of him moving about, taking off his coat—He disappeared into the bedroom for a while and came back out half-changed into pajamas, in his wheelchair, before moving out of sight again as Eddie flipped a pancake onto the plate by his elbow.

"Aren't you gonna say hi?!"

Oh.

Eddie poured the last of the batter into the pan and leaned back from the stove. "Sorry, I was distracted." He smiled when Flash wheeled back into his line of sight, with a bag and a bouquet in his lap. "Welcome home...?" He tilted his head.

Flash grinned at him, wide and sweet, and held out the flowers.

Eddie blinked.

He looked at the flowers, then at Flash, then at the white-eyed face that had formed on Flash's shoulder, then at the flowers again.

"Come on." Flash waved the bouquet at him, blushing slightly. "You know how hard it was to find a florist that was still open? I had to go to the grocery store instead."

Eddie reached out tentatively, as if Flash might snatch them back. Not that he would ever be so cruel, but, the thought still poked at the back of Eddie's mind. Like he was the butt of some kind of joke. But Flash pushed them into his hands, still smiling, and they didn't disappear or burst into flame or anything. He looked at the flowers more closely. Nothing spectacular, just some white carnations and a few sprigs of baby's breath.

It was small, and it didn't smell like much, but that didn't matter.

Something was burning.

" _Shit_ —"

Toxin tugged the bouquet out of his hands as he turned to the food—he lifted the pan off the heat, scraping the last pancake from the bottom of the pan so he could flip it. It smoked a little, definitely singed, but salvageable.

It was fine. He kept an eye on it, and eventually put it on the plate with the rest, and turned off the burner, and finally turned back to Flash.

Flash raised his eyebrows. "Everything okay there?"

"Yeah." Eddie retrieved the bouquet from Toxin's grasp and grabbed a cup to fill with water. "I, uh... No one's ever brought me flowers before." He unwrapped the stems and carefully placed them into this makeshift vase, only turning when he felt Flash's hand at his back.

"Well," Flash tugged on Eddie, until he leaned down. "Now someone has."

He kissed Eddie, first on the jaw, then the cheek, then the lips, all very soft and warm.

Made him feel all unsteady, the way his hands cupped his face.

He wanted to feel that forever.

[ **Dinner first.** ]

Yes. Dinner first.

"Um." He managed to get some space between them, enough to mutter, "Pancakes..." Not his most elegant, but...

"Oh—" Flash let him go, and he tried not to be too disappointed at the loss of contact. "Pancakes! You didn't need to make pancakes, Eddie." His hand ghosted across Eddie's arm before he moved away. "Not that I'm complaining."

Eddie took a deep breath, steadying himself on the counter as he straightened up—sometimes he could be smug and confident but other times Flash really sapped everything out of him. Left his knees weak and face hot. "I... yeah." He shrugged. "I wanted to do something nice."

Flash smiled at him.

Boy, Eddie wanted to kiss him again.

They ate together, and the flowers ended up on the coffee table beside the bag Flash had brought in with them (gingerbread cookies from his mother). The symbiotes kept twining around each other, play-fighting and riling each other up—and they wanted their hosts to join in, in an uncharacteristic show of cooperation.

[ **Aren't you done eating yet?** ]

"You're impatient."

[ **Was the purpose of this dinner _not_ to seduce him? Romance? Dopamine? I'm hungry.**]

Eddie snorted. "That's not how seduction works."

Flash looked at him, with a half-amused-half-curious expression on his face. "What exactly are you two talking about?" He batted his eyelashes. "Trying to get me into bed, Eddie?"

"As if I'd need to _try_."

" _Wow_ , okay." Flash set his plate on the table. "Just for that, I'm gonna play extra hard to get."

***

"I'm sorry for implying that you're easy to get into bed."

Flash grinned impishly at him. "And it only took..." He checked the watch on his phone with a faux-discerning look. "Three hours and fifty-eight minutes." He leaned over to give Eddie a kiss on the cheek before laying back against the pillows. "Can't wait for that massage, V."

[ **What a cruel man...** ]

Eddie narrowed his eyes at Flash, propping himself up on his elbow as he turned onto his side. "Did you make a bet with...?" He gestured toward Flash, referring to the symbiote.

Flash folded his arms behind his head with a self-satisfied smirk. "I told him you wouldn't make it five hours. And look who was right, and _then_ some."

[ **Hungry...** ]

"You are truly the worst." But Eddie couldn't resist that face. He pulled himself on top of Flash. He would kiss that smirk away if he had to. Especially if it would make Toxin shut up for five seconds.

Of course, Flash had other ideas—Plenty ready and willing, but he pushed at Eddie's shoulder until Eddie complied and rolled onto his back, so Flash could climb on top of him. "I'm in charge, this time." Flash peppered his face with kisses, and, well, that worked too.

He pressed their foreheads together, mischief in his eyes. "It's midnight."

Eddie nodded, half-dazed, more focused on the fingers tickling up the side of his neck. "...What?"

"Christmas." As if it should have been perfectly obvious. "You know, when all the nice boys and girls get presents in their stockings." His grin widened.

"Baby, please don't roleplay as Santa or whatever weird thing you're planning to do."

Flash turned his face into the pillow beside Eddie's head with a laugh. "I wasn't _gonna_ , but now you're putting ideas in my head." He ran his hand through Eddie's hair, drawing a shiver up the back of his neck as he dropped his voice into his best approximation of _sensual_ , right in Eddie's ear. "Have you been naughty?"

"Ugh—" Eddie shoved at him halfheartedly. "You're killing the mood."

"Ah, yes, the oh-so-sexy mood of 'I timed how long it took for you to beg me for attention.'"

Eddie glowered at him, though he put no heat behind it. "I didn't beg."

Flash raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't beg; I _apologized_."

"Fine." Flash kissed his way up Eddie's neck. "You didn't beg." His hand had wandered to some interesting places as they spoke. "But you _will_." Teasing.

Eddie muttered, "Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise." Flash grinned again and kissed him.

***

"Andi stopped by earlier." Eddie stared up at the ceiling, in the dark. "I forgot to give her gift to her, like you asked." Flash had his head on Eddie's chest, his hand tracing circles over his shoulder. Eddie rubbed his back, voice half-whispered. "She brought you a present."

Flash hummed.

"Sorry."

Flash raised his head to look at Eddie, pupils barely visible. "Dude, it's not a big deal." He gave Eddie a firm pat on his chest. "I'll just give it to her later."

"I tried to write you something but I couldn't."

"It's _okay_."

"I know." Eddie sighed. "I just wanted to feel useful."

Gently, Flash lifted himself more fully, resting his arms on Eddie's chest. "You don't have to be useful." He smiled. "Just being here is enough."

Man, if that didn't set Eddie's heart beating a little quicker... Toxin extended into his chest with a half-concerned whisper of thought. He pushed back on it, carefully measuring each largely-unnecessary breath he took until Toxin sank back into his subconscious thoughts. He closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth where skin brushed skin and their bodies pressed together. The quiet way Flash occasionally exhaled or inhaled.

Eddie grounded himself in the moment.

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still Christmas for another hour where I live...... right in the nick of time.... This was meant to just be a quick thing but I ended up working on it for like 8 hours.  
> If you wanna know the presents:  
> -Flash got Andi an Evanescence CD (as a joke) and a cool bird keychain he found (not a joke).  
> -Andi got Flash a mini box of chocolates (the kind with like, five pieces) and a friendship bracelet she made herself, with skull beads at knotted intervals.  
> -Eddie tried to write a letter but he threw it away and the pancakes were his compromise.  
> -Flash got Eddie a sweater, a really terrible romance novel, and a card with a coupon for free kisses.
> 
> Here's a picture I drew last night, not strictly for this but maybe?  
>   
> posted on tumblr: [link](http://hoardlikegoldenirises.tumblr.com/post/181393554312)  
> and twitter: [link](https://twitter.com/nadiarwendt/status/1077437375461056512)
> 
> Toxin and Venom are still not really like... friends but they tolerate each other for the most part.  
> At this point Toxin has I thiiink become affected by Eddie's own thoughts enough to mostly like Flash, though I'm sure at times there is plenty of resentment, and for good reason. That's probably true of Eddie too, though, tbqh.  
> Regardless, neither of the symbiotes generally show themselves in the bedroom, preferring to remain firmly inside their respective hosts when things get intimate and the brain chemicals start flowing (mmm tasty brain chemicals...)
> 
> I was also thinking about how good behavior leads to a direct reward, in regards to said brain chemicals. Flash makes Eddie feel good, Eddie feeling good leads to a happy brain, which makes Toxin happy by extension. And so on. But adrenaline is obviously also one of the things symbiotes like to eat so I wouldn't surprised if Toxin goads Eddie into fighting sometimes. Thing is, Eddie can get really angry but (imo) he's much more internal than Flash is, if he's not responding to physical threat or trying to protect something/someone, so trying to get Eddie angry might end with Toxin just being forced to stew in bad brain juices. So it's better to go for positive outcomes and encourage intimacy over resentment.
> 
> Realized I wasn't entirely sure when this AU takes place because Andi has Mania but she was also in the gym with Flash, implying she did not move in with her aunt but stayed in town... flash obvs coaches her... I wanna say maybe her aunt's been paying for her to live in a smaller apartment still in the building complex so that she doesn't have to switch schools.


End file.
